


Help Me, I'm Drowning

by Dallas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, F/M, Fear, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 18:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2279385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dallas/pseuds/Dallas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What you wouldn't give to just raise your arms and scream for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Help Me, I'm Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted from my Livejournal account @ 'self-preserving'.

“You know this is a girl’s bathroom?” she raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms firmly. Nobody had seen him around the school beyond classes. Or, at least, what substituted for classes now. So to find him in Myrtle’s bathroom, of all places, was quite astonishing.

“Nobody asked your opinion,” he spat out, gripping the sides of the sink as he watched the water spiralling down the drain. He couldn’t look up. He would see her in the mirror. Or worse, himself.

“Nobody ever does,” she shrugged. “It’s free.”

“Well I don’t want to hear it!” he turned sharply and froze as his eyes fell on her face. He remembered the little girl that was taken into the chamber of secrets and wondered, briefly, where she’d gone because the young woman before him had a hard look in her eyes, despite the playful smirk on her lips. “You’re hurt...” he says it without thinking, he shouldn’t care. Yet he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the dark bruise on her jaw.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” she tells him.

“Who...?” it’s a stupid question, he knows it.

“The Carrows,” she shrugs. “Who else?” there’s a flicker of something in her eyes as she takes in his appearance. Dishevelled, dirty... It’s not Malfoy. At least, not the Malfoy they all knew with not a single hair out of place and clothes looking like they cost millions of Galleons.

He moves towards her and raises his wand, surprised when she doesn’t flinch or raise her on in response. Carefully he touches her chin, applying enough pressure to get her to turn her head. It’s not a hard spell. He’s watched his mother use it enough times to know it by heart, despite it being a little known healing spell beyond the healing profession. He touches the end of his wand to her jaw, watching as the darkness faded and the swelling went down. Once it was gone, he lingered, his fingers still lightly holding her face until she turned her head back to look at him.

“Thank you, Draco,” she said softly.

For a moment her eyes seemed soft again. The hopeful eyes he’d admired on that little girl even after the trauma she’d experienced. He wanted to ask her how she moved on from it. He wanted to ask her why she hadn’t lost a part of himself like he did every day. He wanted to share his fear with the only other person who knew exactly what was going on in his mind.

“You’re welcome, Ginny,” he whispered, his throat dry.


End file.
